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“I’m calling him anyway, honey.” Mazie hurried out of the room.
I regarded my oldest son and cupped his cheek. “You look so much like your father.”
He didn’t say anything. I could tell my motherly touch made him a little uncomfortable. He was a teenager now, after all.
But I couldn’t drag my hand away. Soon this smooth face would be covered in dark stubble.
Soon.
So very soon.
Where had all the time gone?
“How are you feeling?” he finally asked after five minutes.
“Okay. It was just a Braxton-Hicks contraction. I’m all right. Here.” I grabbed his hand and put it on my swollen belly. “Your sister is kicking the daylights out of me.”
Joe smiled. “She is. You’ve got a soccer player in there.”
“Maybe. More likely just another Steel sibling who will kick butt like her big brothers. If you don’t spoil her rotten.”
“She’ll probably be a pain in the ass,” Joe said jovially.
“But you’ll adore her. All three of you will.”
Mazie hurried back in. “Daphne, I’ve got the doctor on the line. Can you get up to talk to him?”
“Why don’t we have an extension in here?” I grumbled.
“Because we never use this room,” Mazie said. “I’ll call and have one installed as soon as you’re off the phone.”
“When Brad had security installed over ten years ago, he put phones in every room but this one and the formal dining room.” I sat up, holding on to Jonah for support. I inhaled and exhaled. Once, twice, one more time. “I feel better now.” I rose and followed Mazie into the kitchen and picked up the telephone. “Doctor, this is Daphne Steel.”
“Mrs. Steel, it sounds like you’re having more Braxton-Hicks contractions. How is the baby’s movement?”
“She’s kicking all over the place.”
“Good. Very good. Any more contractions?”
“Not since the big one that made me double over. That was about fifteen minutes ago.”
“All right. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, but let’s get you in tomorrow just in case.”
“Yes, of course. What time?”
“My only opening is at eight a.m.”
“I’ll be there, Doctor.”
“I’d like to do an ultrasound, so your husband should come along.”
“Sure. Of course.” If he’s in town.
“Good. See you tomorrow, Mrs. Steel.”
I hung up the phone, feeling a little more relaxed. Marjorie was kicking up a storm.
Yes, Marjorie. I’d always liked the name, and I’d been considering it seriously since I’d learned from my baby name book that it meant pearl. A little research from the local library informed me that pearls are supposed to offer protection.
Now? After that little kicking storm, I wasn’t sure my Marjorie needed protection, but just in case…
Marjorie was her name.
I’d named all our children. Jonah was my little dove. Talon meant claw, but I liked the name anyway. Brad had wanted to name him John, but that seemed too common to me. I agreed to it for Talon’s middle name.
Then Ryan…
Had I named him? Strange. I didn’t remember.
So much I didn’t remember about his pregnancy.
I walked to the family room and grabbed my baby name book off the coffee table. Hastily I flipped to Ryan.
Ryan. Irish origin. Most sources said it meant “little king,” but the original meaning had never been confirmed.
Odd.
I didn’t remember the pregnancy, and the meaning of his name was unconfirmed.
I always checked out the meaning of my children’s names, and I doubted I’d choose anything that might not have a meaning.
Strange that I hadn’t checked that time.
Very, very strange.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Brad
You don’t shit where you eat.
Philosophy from George Steel.
The disappearance of Raine Stevenson months ago, and now Luke Walker…
It was horrendous and gut-wrenching. Who would harm an innocent child?
Problem was?
I knew.
I didn’t have proof, mind you, but I knew. Wendy had already told me about Fleming Corporation and how they were into some bad shit. Heinous had been the word she’d used. I also knew Theo, Tom, and Larry had hooked up with gangsters.
It didn’t take a genius to put it all together.
Wendy knew that.
That was why Wendy had told me.
Damn! She was a mother herself. A mother to my child, even though my child would never know that. How could she condone such horror? How could anyone?
Wendy had a place in Grand Junction. She was there now. I knew because I had her watched twenty-four seven.
She knew I had her watched.
I made sure of it.
It was all part of my master plan.
Wendy was brilliant, but she could be manipulated by one person, and that person was me. As long as I let her figure out everything I was doing—but didn’t let her know I knew she knew—I could keep one step ahead of her.
I had to.
Because in the end, I knew I’d have to move my wife someplace secure.
Ironically, she’d be in hiding, close to the island owned by Fleming Corporation. The perfect plan. Hide in plain sight.
Plain sight beyond a twenty-five-foot stone wall and security guards, actually, but still in plain sight considering the close proximity to the den of horrors.
